


At ease, soldier.

by MsPeppernose



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Costumes, M/M, PWP, Porn With Plot, Uniforms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-17
Updated: 2014-09-17
Packaged: 2018-02-17 18:37:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2319374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsPeppernose/pseuds/MsPeppernose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Pete has to wear costumes for performances. Sometimes he takes them home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At ease, soldier.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](http://instagram.com/p/YBVquqMGfz/)  
> photo  
> 

Pete always liked when they had costumes for performances. It made it a bit more fun, made for a bit of variety, and really he just fucking loved dressing up. He could channel whatever he was dressed as and throw himself into the performance in a different way to the way he normally did.

They had done numerous photo shoots dressed in costumes ranging from sexy to downright strange so he was used to unusual. But it was usually fun and interesting. And he always enjoyed seeing the other guys dressed up. Especially Patrick.

When it had been suggested that they wear costumes for their performance on a UK television show, they had of course agreed. There was no reason not to. The costumes that had been presented to them were variations on British military uniforms, a different version for each of them. Pete liked his; camouflage green overalls, heavy black boots and a red beret. Joe's had camouflage cargo pants and a helmet that we was told he didn't need to wear and therefor jumped at the chance. Andy's looked like a airforce uniform, and it suited him. It made his tattoos stand out against the dark fabric. Patrick's costume was a khaki coloured shirt, black pants, and he wore a red and black bandana around his neck. The hair and make-up girl had slicked his hair back in a sort of forties style and Pete thought he looked fucking gorgeous.

The performance was clean and tight and went off without a hitch. Pete bounced around the stage as usual, full of energy, bounding off his bandmates until the track was over. The four of them had enjoyed running around the green room playing army dudes, as Pete called it, tackling each other and pretending to shoot each other like over excited children, both before and after playing, until they were herded towards the dressing rooms to get changed so that they could be brought to the near by hotel for the night. Sometimes the costumes or stage clothes would be used for repeated performances like several tour dates or shows, but these ones were for one performance only. Pete decided to be a brat and keep the overalls and the beret. He had asked the wardrobe girl and flashed his most charming smile and she had told him that no one would miss them. He'd thanked her with an extra flirty kiss on the hand and she had been so smitten she hadn't noticed him stealing parts of Patrick's costume too. He decided the shirt and the bandana needed to end up in his bag. If they wouldn't miss the coveralls, they wouldn't miss a boring old shirt.

When they got back to the hotel, Pete gave Patrick a quick goodbye kiss and went to his room. He told Patrick to come by later on, and that he had a little surprise for him. Pete showered, dressed and unpacked his stuff a bit. His unpacking involved emptying most of his case onto the floor and then tumbling some of it back in. They were never in hotels for long enough so there was no point in unpacking much more than that. His phone vibrated and the text message from Patrick saying he would be over soon. 

Pete had been flaked out on his bed, on top of the covers, flicking through the hundreds of useless hotel supplied television stations. There was never anything on so he didn't know what the point of channel surfing was but it had become a part of his hotel ritual: shower, unpack, channel surf, sex with Patrick, room service, then probably more sex with Patrick. Perfect.

On receipt of Patrick's text, Pete began to get ready. He tugged open the backpack he had had at the television studios and pulled out the coveralls he had worn on set. He stripped himself to his boxer briefs and a snug fitting white tank top and pulled on the coveralls, buttoning them up. He popped the collar slightly and put the beret on. He played with the angle of it and smiled at himself in the mirror when he was happy with it.

The knock at he door indicated that Patrick was here but Pete was all dressed up so it was best to check in case he invited the duty manager or dry cleaning guy into his room when he was dressed like a cadet. No need to have that awkward conversation. "That you, Trick"? He called. "No it's fucking Barack Obama" came the reply in Patrick voice, in a tone that said he was amused.

Pete smiled. He opened the door to Patrick and when Patrick saw him Pete made a salute, keeping his face as serious as possible and his body rigid. 

"Pete you're crazy. What the hell. Did you steal that?" Patrick was grinning.  
"Yes sir" Pete replied, keeping a thousand yard stare and doing his best to not return the smile.

Patrick closed the door behind him as he entered Pete's room, sidestepping the overflowing suitcase. He moved towards Pete and placed his hand on Pete's chest and a little kiss on Pete's lips. Pete didn't move, he stood still and kept his hands at his sides, but returned the kiss.

"Sir" Pete repeated, hiding a smirk, and Patrick seemed to get it.  
"Oh" he said, his voice soft. "Are we playing army dudes again?"  
"Sir, yes sir" Pete barked. Patrick looked amused but his eyes looked darker. He knew. He knew Pete well enough to understand what the game was tonight. He pulled at the khaki coloured shirt that was sticking out of Pete's bag and took it out. "So I am your commanding officer?"

"Last time I checked. Sir" Pete replied. He was glad that Patrick understood. Pete often came up with fun and weird games for them, and Patrick usually had to try hard to keep up with him on some of them, but he was usually on board and happy to humour him. One of these days he would probably tell Pete to take a hike and ask for boring, normal, ordinary, hot-as-fuck sex. Not today though it seemed.

Patrick pulled off his own shirt and changed into the stolen one. He took his time to fix the bandana around his neck and make sure that it was just like at the television studio. Pete watched him squeeze some hair gel onto his fingers from the bottle on the dresser and work it through his hair so that it was like it had been during their performance. It wasn't quite as good as when that girl from hair and make up had done it but it was close enough. Patrick was wearing jeans rather than the black pants from the costume and Pete wished he'd had a bigger bag to fill earlier. He also wished he'd been able to steal them both army boots but that would have been pushing it. And really, the more clothes they were wearing, the more they would have to take off. 

When he was done, Patrick turned to face Pete and saluted him. Pete straightened himself up again and returned the salute. He looked Patrick up and down and cocked an eyebrow at him. He looked hot as hell all dressed up.

"Cadet, did you just eyeball me?" Patrick said. He was getting in character quickly today. Pete was pleased.  
"No Sir" Pete replied.  
"You calling me a liar?" Patrick said, getting right in Pete's face so that Pete could feel his breath.  
"No sir" Patrick was far better at this than Pete had imagined he would be. They had seen enough war movies to be able to play pretend with vaguely military sounding dialogue even if neither of them really knew what any of it meant or what ranks their costumes would give them in real life.

"You have the wrong uniform on Cadet" Patrick let his gaze travel up and down Pete's body slowly. It gave Pete a little thrill to feel his eyes all over him. "Take it off".

Pete did as he was told. He unbuttoned the coveralls from his chest to his groin and opened it up to slip his arms out. He let them slide down his thighs and stepped out of them. He stood in his crisp white boxers and white tank top and resumed his previous position of standing rigidly, as if he really was a soldier awaiting further instruction.

Patrick traced his hands over Pete's body. He trailed up Pete's arms, over his biceps, across his chest and ribcage and over his stomach. Pete would make a shitty soldier, he was starting to get pretty hard already, and he couldn't keep the grin off his mouth. Though he supposed if he was really in the army his commanding officer probably wouldn't be making him strip or be feeling him up at his request. He stood as still as he could, with his hands behind his back and let Patrick trace his muscles and tattoos. 

"Already saluting me, cadet?" Patrick said and stroked the tip of his finger up and down Pete's hardening dick. Pete just huffed a stuttered breath out and laughed at how cheesy they both were. Yeah, he'd make a terrible soldier. Patrick put his hands behind his back, just like Pete's stance. He stalked slowly around Pete, letting his eyes rove all over his body like he was inspecting him in minute detail, and then did the full circle again to face Pete.

"At ease soldier" Patrick said and Pete relaxed a little, though he felt pretty relaxed to begin with. Patrick slung his arm around Pete's waist and kissed him, slow and easy and Pete wrapped his hand around the back of Patrick neck to pull him closer. He held Patrick's jaw in one hand and stroked his finger down front of his neck. He could feel the vibrations of Patrick's throat when he made a soft moan.

Patrick pushed Pete back gently until his ass hit the side of the hotel room desk. Pete rarely used the desks in hotel rooms. He could never figure out the point of them. Whenever he wrote, whether it was in a journal or on his laptop, he did so stretched out on the bed, or in the bath, or even curled up on the floor sometimes. Now he finally found a use for the desk; making out pressed against it with Patrick. That might even be something he should put on his list of things he always did it hotel rooms. It could go between room service, and more sex with Patrick probably. He spread his thighs open and pulled Patrick closer so that Patrick was wedged right in there. He could feel how hard Patrick was and it made him smile against the kiss.

"You look really hot in uniform, even if that is a big fucking cliche" Pete purred, only pausing the kiss momentarily to let the words out.  
"Really"? Patrick asked. Pete had to pull himself from Patrick's lips to look at him.  
"Dude, are you kidding me? I hate that you even ask, but yeah" Pete replied, looking into his eyes. He'd said this a thousand times but there was always a tiny part of Patrick that never fully believed it. "You could wear a fucking dirty garbage bag and I'd still want you. Want to kiss you. Want to touch you. Want to fuck you." Pete's voice dropped lower and lower as he spoke, and as he zeroed in on Patrick's lips again for a very dirty kiss that left them both breathless. 

Patrick's hands skimmed up Pete's sides pulling his tank top up and Pete helped, easing it over his head. His beret was knocked off in the process so he grabbed it and put it back on. He wanted to keep the last piece of his uniform on, it was too much fun not to. Patrick brushed his thumbs over Pete's nipples and Pete squirmed and they hardened against his touch. 

"Though, as hot as you look, Trick" Pete continued, "you gota take it off. Like you naked more than any costume. Sir". He really liked adding the "Sir", more than he had thought he would.

Pete untied the bandana from around Patrick's neck and tied it around his wrist so that Patrick would still be wearing part of his costume when he was naked too. Pete unbuttoned the shirt and Patrick shrugged it off, meaning Pete could trail his fingers freely up and down Patrick's chest, arms and spine. It made Patrick shiver and devour Pete's mouth again. Pete unbuttoned Patrick's jeans and pulled them down so that Patrick was standing in his boxers, just like Pete was. Pete stroked his knuckle along Patrick's erection that was straining against the fabric of his underwear and Patrick hummed with contentment. Pete then stuck his hand inside the waistband and stroked him firmly.

"Fuck, private Wentz" Patrick's voice was rough but Pete really liked it.  
"Thought I was a cadet" Pete corrected.  
"You can be promoted to fucking general if you want Pete, fuck. I don't care. Just don't stop. So hot" Patrick breathed. He kissed along Pete's jaw and mouthed at the muscle that connected to his shoulder that drove Pete crazy.

Jesus, Patrick was gorgeous like this. "Don't think I thought this through enough Trick, uh, Sir. It's super hot. Totally can't keep in character" Pete said, desperately kissing Patrick back.  
"Fuck. Just call me Sir and it's close enough".  
"Yes Sir" Pete smirked, his voice was breathy and rough. He fucking loved calling Patrick "Sir" right now, and he could tell from the way Patrick's body reacted that he was getting off on it too. "Whatever you want, Sir".  
"Whatever I want? Fuck. Ok. Want to fuck you then Pete, uh, Cadet. Whatever" Patrick mouthed against Pete's shoulder. Pete just moaned a appreciative response. Sounded like a perfect plan.

Patrick always knew where Pete kept the lube and condoms because Pete was predictable and it was one of the few items from his case that he always unpacked and put in the proper place. It was in the drawer by the bed. This was also because Pete was lazy but that wasn't the point. Patrick kissed Pete hard and then turned him to face the bed, and frogmarched him over to the edge of it. Pete went to turn around to face Patrick again but Patrick stopped him and kept him facing the opposite direction. 

"Need to open you up first" was all Patrick said and Pete understood. 

Patrick grabbed the lube and squeezed some over his fingers. He told Pete to take his boxers off and Pete obliged willingly. Patrick pressed the front of his body against the back of Pete's so that they were skin to skin. He reached his arm around Pete's waist and grabbed his dick, giving it a stroke. It made Pete's eyes flutter shut and a moan escape his lips. Fuck. Patrick had magic hands. He gripped Pete's hip with one hand and let the lube covered fingers dip between Pete's ass cheeks, but just for a second. He pushed Pete gently forward and Pete crawled onto the bed to get into position on all fours. Patrick's hand was on Pete's ass again, one hand grabbed a handful of flesh, the other teased at Pete's hole.

When Patrick slipped his finger in, Pete held his breath and only released it when Patrick began to move his hand. He pushed back against Patrick, and Patrick took this as invitation to both increase the pressure and add another finger. Pete rocked back against Patrick's hand and felt the gorgeous, familiar stretch when Patrick scissored his fingers. He felt empty and wanting when Patrick slid his fingers out. 

Rolling onto his back, Pete stretched himself out. He watched Patrick remove his boxers and roll the condom on. Patrick climbed on top of him and kissed him desperately, and fuck, Patrick Stump could kiss like he fucking meant it. He stroked against Pete's tongue. His lips captured Pete's and it turned Pete inside out. Patrick edged closer to him, lined himself up and then he pushed forward and they both moaned in unison. It was a sound that Pete would always get turned on by. Patrick began thrusting slowly but it was no time before he was bucking hard against Pete. The only sound in the room was the slap of sweat slick skin on skin and heavy breathing from them both, and it sounded like music to Pete's ears. Pete clung on to Patrick. He gripped a hand around his shoulder tightly and used the other hand the thumb over Patrick's nipples. It made Patrick swear and Pete loved it; Patrick didn't swear that much in public so it was extra dirty to hear him sweat like that. Patrick had both hands wrapped around Pete's thighs, digging into the flesh and pulling him as close as he could. 

Pete was always first to come when they fucked like this. The feeling of Patrick pounding into him, and Patrick's hand wrapped around his dick, and well, just Patrick in general was sensory overload and it always sent him over the edge before Patrick. Pete quite enjoyed this fact because then he could savour his afterglow while watching Patrick's orgasm face with a front row seat. It was a thing of beauty. The heat built up at the back of his stomach and then unraveled, heavy and fast, as he came hard, his body stiffening and spasming and he spilled over Patrick's hand. 

Patrick continued to thrust into him for a moment and Pete watched him closely while catching his breath. He loved this bit. The bit where Patrick came apart and lost all control and Pete could see the open and unguarded pleasure that coursed through him. 

"Can't wait to see you come, Sir" Pete could feel Patrick's orgasm approaching, Patrick's thrusting became faster but fell out of rhythm and he had a look of blissful desperation on his face as he fell forward and braced himself against Pete's shoulder. He took a moment to breath before lifting his head again. Pete threaded his fingers into the hair at the back of Patrick's neck and tugged him forward to kiss him. The kiss was languid and easy, and wrapped in post coital glow.

Patrick lifted himself onto his hands and knees to crawl off Pete. He disposed of the condom and joined Pete again on the bed, flat on his back. He looked exhausted, satisfied and utterly beautiful. The red beret, which had long since been knocked off, was lying abandoned on the bed, and Pete picked it up and placed it on Patrick's head, like he'd won a prize. He then tucked his head against Patrick's shoulder and let himself relax against the sweat damp skin. 

Patrick untied the bandana which was still around his arm. He took hold of Pete's hand and wrapped the bandana around the wrist, doubling it over and tying it in a knot.

"There. Now you've been promoted" Patrick said to him.  
Pete touched his finger against the fabric and grinned. "Thanks, Sir"


End file.
